


Wingman

by orphan_account



Category: AFI
Genre: Drinking Games, First Time, Frat House era, M/M, UST, pretending to be a couple but secretly wanting to bang anyway, straightedge angst, suck and blow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-25
Updated: 2013-01-25
Packaged: 2017-11-26 21:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/654748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A (questionably sane) girl from Jade’s drunken college days is back and terrorizing the frat house. Davey gets roped into being Jade’s wingman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wingman

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this story because my friend needed me to cock block this crazy drunk girl one night, and we made out a lot to deter her. Of course, the whole time I just kept thinking about what a fun time it would be to write it into a story. I got burnt out, but after moving into a frat house, the story kind of crept back into the shadow of my inspiration.I don't own them, this isn't real.

Davey had been sort of eyeing the girl and passing judgement _before_ Jade made a scene. After all, she was terrifying. She was easily taller than himself (but that wasn’t hard, much to his chagrin,) but also a few inches taller than Jade, and about seven times as skinny which was saying a lot. It wouldn’t have been particularly noticeable had she been wearing a shirt bigger than a postage stamp, but unfortunately for everyone at the party, she was most definitely clad only in a strip of highlighter yellow-green fabric that covered her almost nonexistent breasts, exposing the entirety of her alarmingly concave stomach and every single rib. Additionally, her collar bones stuck out on stark relief, not to mention her legs and hips form the exact shape of a turkey’s wishbone, shiny in their black spandex leggings. In short, the girl was terrifying. 

Being an observant guy, Davey was checking out all the party guests in this bored way. He was far more concerned with the albums he’d bought that were currently still in their shrink wrap and Rasputin’s bag tossed haphazardly on his bed. He would be listening to them right now had it not been for the commotion downstairs: music and drunken yelling and way too many distractions for him to really properly pour over the records. So down the stairs he trumped, collapsing on barstool at the kitchen counter to watch his housemates and friends play a vigorous, noisy round of flip cup. He was kind of mad because Jade was hanging out with them, a plastic red cup full of something in his left hand, which was fucking irritating because he’d recently confided in Davey that he was entertaining the notion of edge. He was laughing, and Davey was watching, fuming. 

But then everything was interrupted by her arrival. A group of people were at the door, screaming about something and holding up a keg, just like frat boys in fucking college. Davey was just thinking about how he’d left Berkeley to get _away_ from that bullshit when his eyes fell on the girl: tall, emaciated, scantily clad, and clearly inebriated with the way she was tottering around on her black, strappy high heels. Davey lifted his head from his arms, which had been pillowed on the counter, and stared. He spent a good seven seconds counting her ribs before his eyes fell on her face, which was equally terrifying, if not more so than the rest of her. 

She had huge teeth that reminded Davey of a horse, gappy and white and shiny and kind of crooked. Then there were the hollowed out cheeks, and the enormous, dark, kohl smeared eyes set deep and gaunt under her horrifically plucked brows. Black hair tied into a messy bun, and a cigarette tucked behind the ear. Davey was about to poke the guy closest to him and ask who the fuck invited her when she opened that horses mouth and belted in a rich, nicotine raspy voice: “Ohhh Jadey eets beeeen so long!” Before she strode meaningfully over to Jade, who was standing with his red cup and looking _exactly_ like a deer in the headlights, and smacking a wet, lingering kiss onto his cheek. 

“You look eee-xact-aly zee same!” She crowed, batting her mascara clotty lashes at him and winking. Jade swallowed audibly, nodding a little. “Lao! It’s, uh...it’s...it has been a long time,” he stuttered.  
Everyone in the room had kind of frozen, amused gazes locked on the monster and her prey. Davey smirked, wondering how on earth Jade ever got mixed up with a broad like this, praying to a god he didn’t believe in that he’d spill his cup of beer in terror. 

“I need to catch up weef you, Jadey, but right now I need anozer dreenk,” She announced, squeezing his thigh suggestively in her skeleton’s claw. “Marteen...Marteen! Where is zee vodka?!” she shrieked, and with that she’d pushed her way through the semi circle of startled flip-cup players, stumbling a little on her heels, almost falling on top of the foozeball table, and tugging her rubber band of a shirt up as it slid down her flat chest. Once she’d safely exited the room, everyone turned flashing eyes on Jade, guffawing and slapping him on the shoulder. His cheeks were a fierce crimson, nearly matching the shade of his stupid red cup. People kept on crowing “Lao!” to each other and themselves and to Jade, who kept on giving them furious fake smiles. “You all are assholes, you know that?” 

“It’s your own fault, Puget,” Adam said, shaking his head solemnly and taking a careful sip of beer. 

Davey watched Jade slink away from the pack of people, and eventually collapsed on the barstool next to him. “Oi,” Davey said, slapping Jade on the shoulder. “So, It doesn’t look like you particularly want to tell me, but, who the fuck is this Lao chick and how do you know her?” 

Jade huffed, shaking his head like he’d just been forced to recall the biggest mistake he’d ever made in his life. Then he rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, smearing the eyeliner remnants so they made half-moon shapes on his palms and muttered, “Lao’s this girl I knew my first and second year of college. Then she took her junior year abroad and left, and I thought I’d be free of her forever but apparently she’s back in town...she’s one of those people who thinks they’re your best friend. As you can see, she’s kind of crazy, and kind of an alcoholic, and kind of does a lot of cocaine,” he said in a whisper, leaning in towards Davey to prevent eaves droppers from gathering information and giving him a hard time. 

“Huh, I see. Well, she certainly looks crazy, and like a drug addict,” Davey said, shrugging. He could smell Jade’s cologne and Jade’s hair gel, and it was making him somewhat less mad about the red cup thing, which was irritating in and of itself. Jade looked so small and awkward and vulnerable next to that girl and her heels and talons, and it made him almost impossible to be angry at. Until he said this: 

“I also kind of slept with her. Once,” He added quickly, looking away from Davey and off into the distance like that would make the confession less humiliating. 

Davey stopped caring about how good he smelled and how cute his nose was. “You _kind of slept with her?!_ How do you _kind of_ sleep with someone, Jade? How do you sleep with someone like that at _all_?!” Davey hissed accusatorially, tucking his electric blue devil lock behind an ear and making sure to purse his lips condescendingly. Jade cringed, ducking away from Davey. 

“Shh, dude, come on. I don’t want everyone to know. And lay off, it was my first year in college and I was eighteen and sad and...” Jade trailed off, snapping his jaw shut and wrinkling his totally uncute nose. 

Davey narrowed his eyes, raising one eyebrow. “You were drunk, weren’t you?” He asked, crossing his arms. He was kind of aware that this wasn’t really his business and he wasn’t the edge police or anything, but because Davey was somehow consumed with this feeling of responsibility for Jade, he felt entitled to get pushy with him. 

Jade rolled his eyes, “ I repeat: I was eighteen. And drunk or not, I swear she took advantage of me, and now I’m scarred for fucking life,” He snapped, flicking Davey hard on the forearm with his freakishly long guitarists fingers. “And Dave? This is is 7Up. If you were wondering,” he said, pointing to his cup. 

Davey snatched it from him, sniffing it just to make sure. It was soda. “Okay, so I’m an asshole,” he admitted, holding up his palms in surrender. “But you still screwed the Crypt Creeper over there,” he said, waving in the general direction of a shrill accent prattling along about _time spent in zee catacombs in France with zee French boys._

“Correction,” Jade interjected. “Got screwed _by_. And she’s going to try and do it again, which is why you need to be my wingman,” Jade urged, taking a nervous swig of 7Up. 

“Hell no dude, I don’t want to get within biting distance of that girl,I just want to go upstairs and listen to my new VNV nation CD,” Davey said grumpily, voice somewhat powered by a vine of jealousy that was twisting up through his gut. Lao might have been scary, but she was a girl, and in spite of Jade’s evident reluctance to be anywhere near her, she still had a better chance of getting somewhere with him that Davey did, based solely on anatomy. 

“But you’re the only one sober enough to function!” Jade urged, making his eyes bigger. “Please Dave?”

But before anyone got to witness Davey’s crumbling resolve in the face of Jade’s puppy dog eyes, cute nose, and dizzying smell, Lao burst into the room. 

“Wheres Jade?! I need to talk to my Jadey,” She slurred to everyone, eyes lighting up as she saw him and began clawing her way through the middle of the flip-cup game, a predatory flash in her eyes. Davey stood up to bolt towards the stairs, but Jade grabbed him firmly around the waist and dragged him into his lap before Davey could even think about struggling away. 

Truth was, however, that now he was in Jade’s lap, he kind of didn’t want to leave. So there he sat, dazed and momentarily docile like one of those fluffy old lady dogs while Jade dug his nails into the muscles of Davey’s bicep, sharp in warning. “Hey Lao! Long time no see. This is Davey,” he announced. 

Lao’s eyes fell on Davey in the briefest, most polite way. It was an acknowledgement, nothing more, and after a noncommittal nod of the head she was back to staring at Jade with a horse-toothy smile, looking not that unlike a starving dude watching a steak. Davey bristled, tossing his devil lock sassily. “Nice to meet you too,” he said. Jade squeezed his arms again, signaling him to shut up. 

Davey listened to Lao and Jade shoot the shit for a few tense minutes, fiercely aware of Lao’s increasing proximity to Jade’s face. He could smell the cigarettes on her hair, and some expensive, cloying perfume. He also noticed that her acrylic nails were the same electric chartreuse as her shirt, but he might have only noticed that because said nails were clasped around Jade’s shoulder like talons as she talked to him. He was sure, at that moment, that if he was not currently occupying Jade’s lap, Lao would be, and then some. The thought made him bristle, in spite of himself.

“Excuse me Jade, but you are not neerly drunk eenough for us to have theez conversation,” she crowed, swatting Jade and ignoring Davey entirely. “I am going to get you a dreenk, you keep him right heere, okay Dennis?” she said to Davey, tottering off for a moment. Jade tried to call after her that he was trying out not drinking, but she was already sloshing too much vodka into a red cup of soda, her finger sticky with grenadine. Jade looked panicked. 

“When she comes back,” he hissed through his teeth, “You gotta do something to prevent her from pouring that shit down my throat.” His already wide eyes got wider, looking almost impossible in their ring of faded eyeliner. 

“Do something?! Do what?” Davey snapped back, wriggling in the confines of Jade’s grip. He was on the verge of panic, seeing as he was in this incredibly uncompromising position. Davey liked being in Jade’s lap, but not under these circumstances, exactly. He also didn’t know what the fuck Jade wanted him to do to intercept the vodka. He had little time to contemplate Jade’s expectations, however, because Lao was approaching fast, fingers sticky and cherry red. 

“Dave. Dave. Do it. Do something,” Jade urged, nearly vibrating with tension under Davey’s ass. Davey’s mind raced, a million impractical and probably unhelpful things stumbling through him.  
“ Dave” Jade begged, and Davey made up his mind, twisting around in Jade’s lap to face him, taking his chin in his hand, and kissing him. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to kiss Jade. Certainly not. Regardless, Davey did a half assed, shitty job of actually doing the thing, and placed three, consecutive, chaste, pecks on Jade’s mouth, trying to help him out and not freak him out at the same time. Jade mouth which, surprisingly, kissed back thoughtlessly. Davey actually heard Lao stop in her tracks, high-heels stopping their drunken-clack-clack on the kitchen linoleum. 

After his third, stilted peck, Jade stopped Davey, lacing his fingers through the hair at the back of his neck and dragging him down, deepening the kiss. Before his tongue, slick and sweet with 7up spit, pushed its way into Davey’s startled mouth, he mumbled: “You gotta make this believable.” 

And then they made out in the middle of the kitchen, right in front of Lao and Adam and the entire rest of the frat house. 

When they finally stopped, Davey was weak, teeth chattering and hands tremulous where they were latched onto Jade’s shirt sleeves. He opened his eyes to find Jade looking not at him, but at Lao, eyes narrowed like he was checking to see if she bought it. 

Lao looked shocked, to say the least, holding a cup of booze in each hand loosely, so they tilted precariously and nearly spilled onto the floor. “Jade?” She asked, terrifying mouth parted in shock. “Are you....were you...” 

“I’m not gay, if that’s what you’re trying to ask,” Jade said carefully, rubbing Davey’s back absentmindedly through his shirt. Lao’s huge, bloodshot eyes were volleying between them comically, like one of those creepy cat clocks. “Dave here...Dave’s just one of a kind,” He offered instead. 

“What!?” Davey asked, forgetting this was all an act. 

“What!?” Lao echoed, looking throughly confused. “Are you two...is zee your boy-freend, Jade-ey?” 

“More or less,” Jade explained, pushing Davey’s shirt up his back a few inches and sneaking his index and middle finger onto hot skin. He was probably doing this all to supplement his superb acting job, but _still_. Davey’s dick twitched in his pants, and he crossed his legs on Jade’s lap, not sure he he was allowed to get up yet. 

“Well, more or less meens zer eez steel room for Lao,” Lao declared, demonstrating an uncanny ability to bounce right back into the game like one of those inflatable toys you just couldn’t knock over. “Right, Dav-ee? You can share your Jade-ey for one night?” Lao winked, and Davey’s jaw fell, completely horrified she had this kind of nerve. Jeez, if he really _had been_ more or less Jade’s boyfriend, this would _not_ be okay. 

“No, no Lao, there is _not_ room--” Jade started to explain hastily, but Lao ignored him, cutting him off with an extremely detailed explanation of where she’d been the last few years. She paced while she did this, gesticulating in spite of the drinks weighing down her hands. She didn’t even stop or notice when Davey leaned into Jades ear and whispered, “Maybe I’m not the best person for this.” 

“Why?!” Jade hissed, hand still skin-to-skin with Davey’s lower back. 

“Because I _actually_ like guys,” Davey barked under his breath. “Remember?”

“That’s why you’re perfect. No one else would have thought to kiss me, and no one else would be cool about playing along. It’s just one night, Dave. One night, do me a huge favor.” 

“But...but..what if I get turned on? I mean, not that I--”

“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Jade shrugged, smiling. And Davey realized he was stuck, stuck playing wingman, stuck in a debatable hell, or heaven, depending on how he looked at it. 

He was leaning towards the latter, right now, seeing as Jade had just leaned in and kissed him gently on a tendon of his neck, lips lingering there and proving that unbeknownst to Davey, Jade was actually a remarkable method actor. He was touching Davey like it was second nature, hands wandering casually but commandingly as he listened (or pretended) to listen to Lao tell her tales of rowboats in Italy and the Parisian model she’d been temporarily married to. She kept on trying to pass the drink off on Jade, who was politely declining each time, (much to Davey’s embarrassing complacency.) 

All the while, Davey sat there awkwardly, jolting between acting as if he wasn’t into this as to not bely his true feelings, and remembering that he was _supposed_ to be into it for Jade’s sake in the grand conning of Lao. Just as Davey was about to relax into Jade’s grip a little more, perhaps allow his shoulder to press into Jade’s chest all boyfriend-like and whatnot, Mark tripped over excitedly, interrupting Lao and her vacation stories. 

After looking at Davey and Jade in a _what the fuck guys...actually, why am I surprised?_ sort of way, Mark shook his head and announced, “we’re playing a game of suck and blow. You guys should come.” His tone made it clear that this was not an arguable matter, and that they _would_ be playing suck and blow. Seeing as forced, staged, spin-the-bottle type of making out was a integral part of suck and blow, Davey assumed that Mark was probably using the game (as most people did) to get in some girls pants, or at least kiss her. 

This was also the reason Lao was very, very on board. “Oh Jay-dee!” she shrieked, practically pouncing on him and grabbing his hand in hers, dragging him out from under Davey. “We have to play! And we have to stand next to ee-ach-ozer!” 

Jade’s wide, dark, terrified eyes met Davey’s as he was led, dog-like, to the kitchen where everyone beginning to assemble in a circle. “You have to stand on my other side,” he ordered. 

“It’s suck and blow, dude. They’re gonna make us stand boy-girl order,” Davey grumbled, experiencing a very vehement change of heart on the situation, and deciding it was definitely hell again. He was well versed in the rules of suck and blow, seeing as it was a drinking game where the drinking was definitely optional, and therefore was commonly played in his presence as some lame, drunk-person effort to include him in their partying. Davey played countless games, and never had he stood next to another dude. 

“No, they can’t make you, you’re gay,” Jade argued, trying to reclaim his hand from Lao’s sticky grip. “Yo Mark”, he said, tapping Mark on the shoulder. “Can Dave and I stand together because it sucks that he always has to make out with girls seeing as he’s gay and all?” 

Davey’s face flushed. First off, he _wasn’t gay_ , and he _hated_ it when people tried to tell he he was gay or straight or male or female or _anything._ He didn’t know how Morrissey managed to avoid the whole thing all together with such style and grace, but Davey definitely aspired to embody that keep-them-guessing, I am-sex-and-lac- therof-thing that Moz perfected. And here Jade was, telling Mark he was gay. 

Mark shrugged, eyeing them somewhat suspiciously, but more so because of the Amazonian princess of terror that was attached to Jade’s right arm still like some fungus or parasite. “Yeah, do whatever you want. I don’t care.” 

So Davey stood next to Jade, a short, kind of thick but still pretty enough (drunk) girl standing on his other side. Luckily, she was completely involved in Mark, who was taking his place on her other side. Great, Davey wouldn’t have to be mackin it with any drunk girls. Just Jade, in order to prevent Jade from mackin it with the mother of all drunk girls: Lao. 

“Alrighty, the game is easy enough,” Mark yelled above the noisy clamor, eyes fixed meaningfully on the girl between him and Davey. “You pass this card around the circle without using your hands -- air pressure alone,” he held up a jack of spades between his index and middle fingers. “You suck, then blow to pass. If you drop the card, then you either take a drink or make out with the person you were trying to pass it to...and we go!” and with that, Mark sucked the card to his lips, and leaned down to pass it to the girl he liked. 

She wasn’t drunk enough to drop it yet, and apparently hard enough to get she wasn’t going to botch the pass on purpose, so with a coy little eyeroll the took the card, sucking it onto her mouth and turning to Davey. He bent down and carefully took it, wrinkling his nose as the nauseatingly sweet mixer and smirnoff smell of her mouth in such close proximity to his. Then he turned to Jade, holding onto his waist to steady himself and ever so gingerly, pressing his lips to Jade, very aware of the thin layer of card-stock separating two mouths. He blew gently to transfer the card, but Jade strategically didn’t suck, letting the jack flutter and drop between then like a dead bird, their mouths hovering only damp, sober centimeters apart. Davey exhaled. 

“Make out! Make out! Make out!” The circle yelled, and before Jade could explain away his complete and utter lack of card-sucking skills, Davey grabbed him and crushed their open mouths together, tongue pressing in hot and filthy and Jade actually groaned into it, making a surprised, appreciative noise that was strangled between them. 

So, they made out. For awhile. Long enough to make Lao falter, anyway, stumble audibly in her stupid heels. 

“Jeez, you made that one count,” Jade mumbled breathlessly when he pulled away, eyes dark and half-lidded. Davey shrugged, smirking to himself. The game continued on, the card making its rounds and dropping occasionally. Shots were taken, couples kissed. Luckily, Davey lived up to his title of Wingman and dropped the card strategically, ensuring that Lao got no action. (And he got to kiss Jade. But that was just a nice side effect.) 

Once suck and blow was over and all the drunk party guests lost interest and wandered off in their separate directions, Lao tried to blow the whole fucking house down. Stumbling between the chewed-up pool table and the foozeball, she deposited herself in front of Jade, bony and too long arms crossed in an unnatural looking scramble across her chest. 

“Well, Mee-zer Jade-y, you’ve ignored me all night. So I give ze fuck up. You can have him, eef eez so gay all anshit now! I’m going to find me a _reel_ man!” and then she stomped out the door, before stomping back in and grabbing her handbag and jacket, and storming out again. Heads turned, but only for a few seconds, before people went back to their drinks and air hockey and whatever else. A few seconds later her friends tore after her, but that was the end of Lao. 

Jade let out a breath he was holding, tension visibly leaving his body until he slouched against the counter. “Fuck. She’s gone,” then he grinned, punching Davey’s arm broishly, lips dry and unswollen despite their previous kisses. It was as if Davey hadn’t happened at all. 

“Thanks dude. I knew I could count on you.” 

Davey felt somewhat like a balloon, lost and floating upwards towards a certain demise, disconnected from his prior position safe and grounded in an imaginary fist. He felt...disappointed. “Yeah. Anytime, I guess.” 

His voice must have sounded somewhat deflated, because Jade cocked his head at him, eyes darkening. “You okay? This wasn’t weird or anything, right?” 

Not quite knowing how he felt about it, or how to voice it even if he _did_ know, Davey was quiet, drifting ever closer to the sun. “Uh...I don’t think so.” 

They looked at each other awkwardly, and Jade said, “Are you sure?” 

This was getting painful, so Davey whipped a bright, fake smile out of thin air and started acting, like he usually did whenever someone asked him is he was okay or tortured or happy,and they really just wanted him to lie so they could continue on their merry way. “No, It’s totally cool. I’m just sick of being around drunk people all night...remember, I just wanted to listen to my new records tonight, dude. And then you roped me into Lao-Control. I’m emotionally exhausted.” 

“Oh, totally. I get it dude, go take it easy or something,” Jade said quickly, plastering on a too-wide smile of his own. He punched Davey in the arm again, like he was trying to _prove_ and then Davey drifted out of the party and up the stairs, wondering what the fuck was going on and why Jade was so weird and why he was so weird all of the sudden, and most of all, how he could go on living his life after making out with Jade and knowing how wonderful a only previously imagined potential was. 

He made it halfway down his hallway, where he passed one couple fucking with the door open and a trash can stinking like puke, when Jade caught up with him, hand grabbing him around the elbow and scaring the shit out of him. “Whoa, Dave, wait.”

Davey snatched his arm back, running a hand through his hair nervously to make his jumpiness seem normal or intentional or something. “Hi,” he blurted. “What do you want?” 

“Look...” Jade started, before he cut his eyes to the floor and flushed. Davey followed his gaze to the carpet, because it was less awkward then looking at Jade turn red and quiet. It was gross and stained with jizz and blood and worse, beer.   
r32;“What!?” Davey pressed when Jade trailed off.

“Look,” Jade mumbled, “Can we go to your room?” 

Somewhat taken aback, Davey shrugged, glad to leave the puke-trashcan and jizz stains. “Sure.” They always went to Davey’s room in favor of Jade’s, it was usually messier and more cluttered, but somehow conducive to writing music. Jade followed Davey down the remainder of the hall and past the door, which he dead-bolted behind them. 

“You’re locking the door?! What’s your issue--”

“I have a confession to make,” Jade announced, his words coming out too fast and eyes cutting up to Davey’s, dark and glistening. Davey sat down on the edge of his mattress, shuffling his feet together nervously, looking at Jade expectantly with a dry mouth.

“You weren’t actually my wingman tonight.” 

Davey stared, trying to infer what exactly this could mean. “...I wasn’t?” Of course he was Jade’s wingman. That’s why he’d endured his fifteen hundredth hame of suck and blow and tortured himself by kissing someone he’d probably never kiss again but would always want to. 

“No,” Jade sighed, taking a deep breath. “Lao was.” 

The silence was hot and tense, silent save for the muted roar of partying below them. Jade waited patiently hiding behind his hands while Davey put the pieces together, foot nervously tapping on the floor. 

“So...you lied to me? ” Davey screwed up his forehead, fighting upstream and trying in vain to figure shit out. He was an intelligent person on most days, really, but for some reason he was still stuck on _not actually being Jade’s wingman._ How on earth was that possible? And how was Lao actually Jade’s....oh. 

“I’d rather you take it as ‘creatively wooing you,’ but yeah, she didn’t actually want in my pants.” 

Davey shuddered, allowing things to sink into him. Lao didn’t want into Jade’s pants. Meaning Jade just wanted into Davey’s pants, and needed a reason to manipulate the situation. Meaning Jade was an asshole, but endearingly so. Which Davey already knew. “She’s quite the method actor,” he finally said, his stomach nervous and tight and flip flopping at all the sordid, long-awaited potentials this realization of Jade’s ulterior motives was bringing to the forefront of his imagination. 

“Things didn’t go according to plan, dude. I wanted her to be my wingman, not to get shitfaced and play this ridiculous role...”

“You are such a fucking horrible person!” Davey screamed, making a fist and socking Jade in the chest hard enough to make him double and cough, looking up at Davey with big, pleading eyes. “Why couldn’t you have told me you wanted me _like a normal person?_ ” His voice was already losing the steam of fury though, because he knew he probably wouldn’t love Jade if he was a normal person. 

“I’m sorry,” Jade said timidly. “I fucked up everything up.” 

“Well, you got to kiss me. That’s what you wanted, right?” Davey’s voice got all reedy and wheezing at the end, like some unfortunate winged insect caught in a web and rolled up only to have its insides sucked out. He was hot all over, nervous and not thinking clearly, blinded by childish anger but mostly, want. 

“I wish I could have told you that in a more efficient way, but yes. That is what I wanted,” Jade’s face was hidden, but Davey could imagine exactly what it looked like. Fallen, adorably serious, bright red, mortified. He sighed, then smiled. rubbing the back of his neck and deciding to take a gentler approach. 

“Dude, you could have just asked if that was what you wanted. You’re dumb.” 

“I prefer ‘creative,’ or maybe--”Davey cut him off by vaulting off the bed and kissing him, without the pretense of being his boyfriend of fuck buddy or Lao-repellant or wingman. Jade sighed into it, palms flat and open on Davey’s stomach. There was a shaking restraint to the way Jade was moving, like he worried about hurting Davey if he let go of how badly he wanted him and gave into the flood. Now that the various layers of con artistry and acting had blown away, Jade seemed maddened by the reality of them, just Davey and Jade, kissing, tongues tangled and skin pressed together in a raw way. 

Davey let his head tilt back for a moment, just so he could see and let the static clear away from his eyes, where were clouded with an electric mess of exploding colors. Fireworks, he supposed, which was embarrassing a little but but also exciting. He let his thumb push into the corner of Jade’s mouth, slick and hot and kissable. “I do kind of admire your innovativeness,” He whispered. 

Jades eyes were impossibly black, and he looked serious, terrified, in awe. Clearing his throat, he held Davey close and mumbled, “So, you wanna listen to your new records, or...” 

“Fuck no,” Davey said, words cramped between a kiss.


End file.
